


dippin' that dick

by rambunctiousragamuffin



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Is hummus a valid sexual orientation, Other, Silly Connor, THAT'S not how you enjoy hummus!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15198308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rambunctiousragamuffin/pseuds/rambunctiousragamuffin
Summary: Connor tests the kinematic viscosity of a tub of hummus. With his dick.





	dippin' that dick

Captain Fowler had come over the weekend previous to partake in alcoholic beverages-- _ for fuck’s sake, kid, it’s just a couple of beers _ \--and participate in a fantasy role-playing game-- _ you know what? Fine, whatever.  _

 

He had brought along a vegetable platter, and an array of dips as Hank had dutifully passed along the memo that under Connor’s benevolent guidance, he was trying to “clean up his act” and “eat healthier and shit.”

 

The french onion and ranch dips were the most popular, meaning that at the end of the night, when Hank had been left with everything that had not been eaten, it included a tub of hummus.

 

The hummus that Connor was staring at that was currently sitting unassumingly on the middle-shelf of Hank’s refrigerator like it was a portent that he was trying to divine the secrets of.

 

The secrets being whether or not the dip was still edible.

 

The foil lid had been thrown away, and with it, the knowledge of its expiry date had also been lost.

 

Connor lifted it to his eyes and peered carefully through the transparent plastic cover.

 

Visual scans concluded that there were no major mold growths present, which would indicate a spoiling of the product.

 

But Connor knew that mold spores were microscopic, beyond even his advanced visual acuity, and so he needed to corroborate the freshness of the dip with additional analysis.

 

So, he opened up the lid and gave it a good sniff.

 

Now that Connor was capable of detecting scents, and not just  _ smelling _ , he noted that the dip smelled earthy, and slightly pungent, with a bit of a tangy bite. His processors picked up  _ Cicer arietinum _ , or chickpea,  _ Sesamum indicum _ , or sesame seeds,  _ Olea europaea,  _ and  _ Citrus limon _ , but none of the most common forms of mold to grow on spoiled food.

 

Both sight and scent confirmed that the hummus had not spoiled.

 

But Connor was curious as to how it would  _ taste _ , and he blithely dipped his index and middle-finger into the dip.

 

His first sensory feedback was that it was cold, which made sense considering that it had been sitting in the 3˚C fridge for 127 hours, an adequate time frame to reach thermal equilibrium with its surroundings.

 

Next, he noticed that it was. Kind of squishy.

 

But satisfyingly so! It had an average hardness work done of 58.01mj, which was a very “fun” viscosity to have probed his fingers into.

 

In his interface, the prompt to taste the hummus had been reduced to a lower priority than the new prompt “poke the hummus again.”

 

He looked furtively around the kitchen, even though he could  _ hear _ that Hank was still snoring soundly in bed, before poking the hummus again.

 

It made a wet slurping noise as he pulled his fingers out of the vacuum he had formed with his initial prod.

 

He replicated the process once more, to confirm his findings.

 

_ Schlorp. _

 

Connor quite enjoyed the sensation of poking his fingers into the hummus. He found it to be very satisfying.

 

The slightly-lumpy mixture was wonderful tactile feedback on his fingers, and the difference between the coldness of the hummus and the warmth of his hand was significant enough to send shivers down his spine.

 

Digging his fingers in like a spoon, he scooped up approximately a tablespoon of hummus, tilted his head back and opened his mouth to allow the hummus to drip from his fingers onto his tongue.

 

It was… delightful. Kind of nutty with a savouriness that was quite pleasant when paired with the sour zestiness of the lemon.

 

After all the hummus that would had fallen onto his tongue, he thrust his fingers into his mouth to lick off the remaining dip.

 

The sensation created an exciting feedback loop that made his thirium pump faster, and his aesthetic respiration rate increase as well.

 

He repeated the process once more, at the behest of his interface’s prompt, before his prompt changed to “deal with arousal.”

 

Arousal? What?

 

Connor looked down and--oh. So  _ that _ was what the warm, fuzzy feeling low in his gut was. Arousal.

 

He had experienced several emotions since deviating, but he had yet to experience arousal.

 

It was… a heady feeling, now that he realised it was there. 

 

Since interfacing with the Tracis at the Eden Club, Connor knew the most effective way to “deal with arousal” as his prompt had put it was to manually stimulate his genitals until climax was achieved. He also knew that the most efficient way to do that would be to masturbate.

 

He also  _ also _ knew that masturbating in a kitchen is considered a  _ faux-pas _ , and ran into the bathroom to sit on the edge of the bathtub. The only reason why he brought the hummus with him was because it was in his hand, and in the urgency of obeying the prompt to reduce his arousal, he had forgotten to put the hummus back into the fridge. Honest.

 

He unzipped his pants, and pulled his cock out with the hand that was not holding the hummus.

 

Giving it a few experimental tugs, he hummed in dissatisfaction. It was… nice, he supposed.

 

But kind of dry. 

 

Connor didn’t produce saliva, so he couldn’t spit into his hand to provide lubrication for the act of masturbation, and Hank wasn’t the kind of person to maintain a moisturisation regimen so Connor wouldn’t be able to use that.

 

His dick had started wilting in his hand, and he looked down at it sadly.

 

It was then that the tub of hummus caught his eye.

 

It  _ was _ a satisfying feeling when probing his fingers into it…

 

So Connor dipped the head of his limp dick into the tub of hummus, and all of his nerves were set alight.

 

The arousal curling low in his gut coiled even tighter, and Connor gave a small, experimental thrust into the hummus.

 

The squishy sound echoed profanely through the small bathroom, and Connor couldn’t help but moan.

 

He wasn’t even aware that he was  _ capable _ of achieving that vocal register, but now it seemed as if he was unable to stop.

 

He moaned again and again in time with his thrusts. He especially liked it when his glans brushed against the base of the tub of hummus. The difference in sensation between the hard plastic and the slightly squishy dip was  _ staggering _ .

 

Before he knew it, the prompt “deal with arousal” was flashing in his interface with more and more insistence and then suddenly--

 

Nothing.

 

Then Connor rebooted, and he realised that not only had he shorted out, he had achieved climax.

 

There was hummus all over his still tumescent member,  _ and _ his boxers  _ and _ the bathroom mat. 

 

Good thing there was still a couple of hours before Hank was due to awaken; Connor would have to do laundry and decide on a new breakfast plan for Hank.

**Author's Note:**

> Connor now has to go about his life knowing that he once masturbated into a tub of hummus and now so do you


End file.
